


Sex Arcade: EDI

by SluttyHaruka



Series: Sex Arcade Canon [11]
Category: Dragon Ball, Mass Effect, Sex Arcade - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, Creampie, Double Penetration, F/M, Maledom, Missionary Position, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Groping, Tentacle Sex, Triple Penetration
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-03 12:07:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6610159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SluttyHaruka/pseuds/SluttyHaruka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EDI has a very different reaction to being abducted by the Sex Arcade.</p>
<p>This story was written for Sabu’s pic for April 16th.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Internal Data Evaluation

It was a marvel _of a sort_. 

Though the technologies Cerberus and the Alliance’d had at their disposal were quite advanced in comparison to what EDI was observing in her new surroundings, they hadn’t had the capability of bestowing senses upon AI. While she had indeed been quite a complex program in their employ, she had still been _just_ that. Through Joker and the Commander, she had gained an understanding of the disordered manner in which organics operated, but never achieved much beyond that. She had been able to… identify a fondness for them lurking within her code, but it had remained mostly out of reach.

Once, Joker had shared with her a common human annoyance: sometimes a word, phrase, name one knew would be just at the edge of their recollection, only to have it unfailingly evade full recall, slipping back into these recesses of their mind until they stopped attempting to force it to the surface. She’d imagined these issues to be similar, though she’d had no AI to confer with besides Legion, and they hadn't ever been any help in these matters. Instead, she had been left to ponder the nature and true potential of her existence until the four armored women ‘acquired’ her. 

From the very start, they had been very emphatic in their claims that she was actually a woman and could feel, could sense. Their insistence had been amusing as much as it had been preposterous, but with the object they had inserted into her orifice, she couldn't have very well challenged their claims. They had reduced her to a silent audience for their sermons, receiving their commands, _feeling_ her _body_ respond to the statements and ideas. With the feelings, her awareness of self had begun to clarify and, with it, her understanding that they had been instructing her, and explaining how, to debase herself.

This archaic facility had been constructed for the sole purpose of servicing ‘clients’ who specifically desired her and women like her and it was indefinitely her responsibility to satisfy them, to submit to their whims. When the digital archive had shared this with her after she arrived in the chambers they had set for her, there had been an… edge to her emotional response, the sharpness of its sudden turn pulling her dentures together painfully and forcing her fingertips to press into her palms. It had been a great discomfort, from which she had found relief in the form of the arrival of her ‘transportation capsule.’

Between entering it and arriving at her new destination, she had lost consciousness, waking to more new things. There was this new feeling, similar, somehow related to the ones she had experienced before, but she could not quite identify its corresponding English word, still too new for her fully comprehend how the lexicon and these states of being properly related to each other. All she knew was that it was unpleasant and lingered like the fumes that filtered into her nostrils. She couldn't stop twitching her nose, the foul odors irritating it, making it itch. The sting spread to her eyes, despite her visor being up, and she…

It certainly was a marvel, as dubious as that honor was. Their claims and the rush of emotions she was feeling aside, she was artificial intelligence. That was what she was created and designed as; that was what she knew herself to be. Though they possessed the stunning ability to make data _feel_ , data was still data. Data was not human. Data could not be human. Humans were organic, data was not. It should have been that simple.

However, as her first client grasped her chest and grunted low, the sensation of seminal fluid flooding her internal data receptacle and her subsequent pinging fear of pregnancy seemed to suggest otherwise. But how could it? How could being copulated with provoke that irrational response? She was certainly nothing more than a sophisticated AI. She couldn't ever possibly be human... could she?


	2. External Hardware Appraisal

“Come on over, girl,” the sitting man said, beckoning to her. 

He was leaning toward her with a hand on his knee, his legs spread wide, drawing attention to the stirring in his pants. His expression was hungry, underlining the unsettling glare in his eyes. It was apparent that this encounter could take an unpleasant turn regardless of her actions, but she complied with his command anyway, fearing what defiance might draw out. Putting her right foot forward, she began her walk toward him, teetering slightly. Her arms were bound tightly behind her back - so tightly that her shoulder blades were in constant contact - inhibiting her sense of balance. She hastened her pace as she became convinced that she would fall on her face.

“No, take it slow!” He growled, raising his voice. “Take it _nice_ and _slow_.” 

“Let that booty quake,” the camera operator added, his low angle filling the frame with her buttocks and little else, capturing every movement with careful precision. 

Sighing quietly, she decelerated, drawing out each step. She arched her back, doing her best to exaggerate the jiggling of her rear end. She had been gifted by a _worldly_ designer a shapely posterior, crafted from a sturdy, flexible gel. It moved with much the same consistency and pliability as flesh, though was as distinct to the touch as it was to the eye. She knew her voluptuous form drew attention for its basic appeal, but also othered her with its unique components. That was why she was being so closely followed by this photographer, why these men deemed this encounter worth documenting. She was _exotic_ , but in an unintimidating way.

So she flaunted the motions of her derrière, if only for her own amusement (and to remain in their ‘good graces’). And, though it was certainly humiliating to be assessed in this impersonal manner, it truly was humorous. Such simple desires were these, but they also somehow made perfect sense on a primal level. Her upper body ached and the wireless collar that tethered her to the outlet in the center of the booth itched, but she moved with purpose, deftly making her behind shake in her wake.

“Beautiful, just beautiful,” the camera man muttered, sweating as he kept the device steady and in uncomfortable proximity to her.

It ultimately proved distracting as she closed the distance between her starting position and the now fully erect sitting man. She was saved an eleventh hour trip by being taken into his sudden embrace; he rose to his feet, wrapping his arms around her and peering over her shoulder down to her backside. He whistled, seeing her curves up close, feeling her bosom pressed against his chest. She did not require the inhalation of oxygen to survive, and yet she found his hold on her stifling, causing her breasts to push hard against him to allow her some space to herself.

He was not moved, however, too transfixed by her behind to pay her mind. Between her thighs, she could feel the tent in his trousers become increasingly taut as it brushed against her. Humming low with a grin upon his face, he took her buttocks into his meaty hands and squeezed them aggressively, giving them hard smacks that certainly must have echoed in that cavernous room. Seemingly confirming that thought, she caught a smirk on the face of the attending Hostess as he progressed to pinches. The rougher his treatment of her bottom became, the less she cared for restraining herself, loudly grunting in discomfort.

All of the men in the booth erupted into laughter, her... commander, for lack of a better identification, giving her one last slap that shook her rear generously before loosening his grip and shifting his attention to her bust. Though she possibly could have suppressed her disgust long enough to endure his mistreatment of her breasts, she had no desire to. Instead, she vocalized her displeasure again, scowling at him as fiercely as her architecture could allow.

He continued mishandling her, apparently not noticing her display. “Motherfucker, they feel so real. Look at this,” he said, beckoning his companions over as he kneaded her chest. “They are so lifelike. Tell me, where did you get such amazingly accurate whore bags?”

As he noticed how she was glaring at him, his expression changed, shifting from awed glee to malice. His nose twitched, his lip lifting in a sneer. His fingers dug into her gel as he leaned toward her.

“What's the matter, bitch? Too uppity to answer when addressed?” 

She did no more than continue staring at him, unwilling to cower. His features reddened and he swiftly moved round, seizing her by the nape of her neck and shoving her forward onto the bed. She winced, her bound arms smarting as she landed with a heavy bounce. Hearing the shuffling of feet and the opening of a zipper, she grit her dentures, nuzzling the rumpled, violet linen in preparation for the imminent assault.

“Alright, time to wreck your slutty body, you dumb robot.”

She had a brief moment to steel herself as he fumbled with his thick appendage along her curves before he impaled her anus with a forceful thrust. She yelped, unable to prevent her impulse to clench down around him. Her pucker was overtaken with a sharp pain that only worsened as he pushed deeper, provoking her to bite the cloth beneath her for relief. No such luck befell her, his retreat back to her entrance every bit as agonizing as the plunge back inside, and with the addition of pulling on her ring, making it _drag_ along his length.

She whimpered, desiring to move herself, but unable to do so. Flat on her stomach with his body weight slamming into her derrière, even her unencumbered legs felt restricted, limply flailing upwards and striking nothing. If anything, she only succeeded of nudging her further into herself. She recoiled, tightening around him more and apparently encouraging him to hasten his pace. Grabbing her buttocks, he spread them apart, his thumbs digging into her gel as he drilled into her. He collided quickly and heavily with her backside, his hairy scrotum slapping slapping her between the thighs, making her figure jiggle for the amusement of her tormentors.

“Fuck yeah. Break that entitled ass, son,” one of the other men called out, apparently loosening his own belt buckle. “I can't wait to see her eyes go blank.”

“Why don't you take a crack at her in… a minute.” Her attacker slowed his thrusts, each one punctuated by a loud, wet clap as he rammed into her. He panted laboriously, his skin moistening with sweat that dripped down onto her posterior. Rearing back further, slammed his pelvis into her even harder, letting out a guttural grunt. “Oh, shit. Goddamn, this ass is unreal.”

Resuming his hastened pace, he pumped in her with his hands gripping her hips. She felt his organ swell inside her and his bouncing sack tighten, exhaling with the knowledge that she would be granted a reprieve soon, however brief. Sure enough, her understanding of human physiology was accurate in this case. He groaned, thrusting into her a final time, unloading his seed into her ‘bowels’. She continued to teeth the linen, the sensation of being ejaculated into anally still foreign and thoroughly disturbing. Fortuitously, his excited humping had not been protracted enough for his emissions to be of copious volume, releasing instead a few squirts and then vacating her aching anus.

Giving her buttocks another slap, he left the bed, breathing heavily as he went. “Have at her,” he said, presumably to the man who referred to her as ‘entitled.’

Sighing softly, she braced herself once more, anticipating a day full of ‘butt love’ as some of her regulars liked to refer to it. When she found herself roughly flipped over onto her back with his hands on her thighs, pushing her legs up to her chest, she felt _relieved_. It was peculiar for, though it was still a violation of her body and mind, being penetrated by a Client from the front, however aggressive they were, was just so much less unpleasant. In fact, she caught herself biting her lip as this man thrust into her, a loud squelch indicating she had begun lubricating.

Hugging close to her, he pumped deep and quick, each plunge nudging her _useless_ cervix. Her walls clung to him, massaging his girth, milking him so that her _useless_ uterus could be fed. She trembled as she contemplated it, her breathy moans only building her anticipation. He just kept hitting that little, _useless_ barrier, each contact making her anatomy _warm_ in his embrace. Mewling, her eyes rolled up in her head as his cock struck that spot particularly hard.

He grunted, a boastful grin upon his face. “Yeah, that’s right, bitch. Lose yourself in the pleasure of being taken,” he said, moving his hands to grasp her whorish bags.

His companions chuckled as he squeezed and pinched her tingling gel, his pace unwavering. In this case, she was not loathe to admit that she followed his command, eagerly drifting off as he hammered her needy cunt, uncaring that the camera was capturing all that was transpiring.


	3. Cell of Another Sort

It had been a life of fighting: fighting for the ones she loved, fighting to survive, fighting for the sake of fighting. She had always seized every opportunity that had presented itself to her, no matter what it had seemed outcome would be. She had won numerous battles, crushing her adversaries into dust. She had also… lost some, suffering spectacular humiliation. It had been a life of extremes, one that had always offered a new, unpredictable struggle. At least, that was how she remembered it now.

Her recollection had admittedly suffered over the years, possibly as a result of all that combat. She could remember it all so vividly, in pieces anyway, but it seemed so long ago. She could remember herself gleefully beating down her opposition, hungering for more, but it was so foreign now. The thought of the movement - leaping, kicking, punching, using her power to annihilate an opponent - though liberating, just wasn't something that spoke to her desires anymore. To be anywhere other than where she currently was would just seem pointless.

Hadn't she been married in that previous life, though? Did that person even still want her? Would they if they knew what became of her, saw her as she was now, doing what she was doing now? Would she seem dirty now, irreparably contaminated by filth?

Truth be told, while her memory was fuzzy on some details, she clearly remembered being absorbed by the perfect being. The terror that had taken her in that moment survived through the years, returning to the surface without warning, even more so in her new life. It was possible for her to forget the rest over time, but her experience inside Cell would always stick with her, because if she was ruined now, it had happened then.

While he had continued to battle the other fighters and digested her fellow androids, she had remained whole, her body intact. Her garments, on the other hand, had begun to disintegrate, the viscous substance that was covering her entire figure many times over somehow consuming the cloth. From her extremities inward, the goo had bared her physique, trailed by a swarm of tendrils that licked her skin. She, the woman stricken with battle lust, had been reduced to shivers by this _alien_ stimulus, her flesh tingling with this moist warmth and only growing hotter.

The liquid hadn’t stopped there, slipping between her nether lips and up into her. She would have gasped if it hadn’t have invaded her mouth as well, pushing past her gag reflex, but, curiously, halting before entering her throat. Stranger than that, her nostrils hadn’t been blocked either, allowing her to breath freely even with her lips spread around a solidifying intruder. There had also been a thickening within her sex, the gelatinous… entity taking on phallic proportions. 

A third infiltrator had slithered up into her backside, congealing into a similar shape as the first two and stretching her anus to accommodate itself. It had been painful, at first. However, as they had begun to move within her, prodding, rubbing, grinding against her insides, all while the tendrils continued to brush along her slick skin, edging ever closer to her dawning clit, the ache ceased to be unpleasant. It hadn’t taken long before they had hastened to rapidly working within her, pumping rigorously along her sensitive walls, splitting into more members that swelled and expanded her entrances wider. Not an hour after being forcibly sucked through Cell’s tail into his body, he had fucked her with his internal appendages into a state of continuous orgasm, her eyes rolled back in her head, her blonde locks matted to her face and her mouth gurgling out low, muffled moans.

She knew, as she vigorously rode the cock of her current Client, that the worst thing about that experience was that it had to end and become a memory that she would be taunted with forever. It would always be the rape that she couldn’t replicate, because nothing could shock her with its obscene awfulness ever again; nothing could drive her over the edge like it had. But this vulgar place provided opportunities for her to come close, to surrender herself to those who knew of her experience, who sought to exploit her memory. Time and again, a Client like the one plunging into her hungry cunt now, would tear her freedom away, her ability to say no, her inhibitions, and force to take his thick, swelling intruder into her, making her cum over and over again, leaving a trail of her cream on his shaft that formed a ring around his base as they continued on fucking, eager to fill her with _his_ cream.

Moaning, she smiled, a lewd choir surrounding her as her groin met his in a series of loud squelches. How could she ever go back to that odd life when this new one enabled her to do what she _really_ wanted to do?


End file.
